Hiding My Heart
by Vixi89
Summary: You know you've spent the last seven years hiding your heart away. You know that the box, in which your heart has been locked, is now open. You aren't surprised that Harry is the one who seems to have the key. H/N One-shot. Based after 'Bloodlines'.


**Just a short(ish) one-shot based on a gorgeous song. Wrote whilst up late last night, unable to sleep, so is probably not one of my best, but feel the need for a bit of a Harry/Nikki outlet. Silent Witness is owned by the BBC and all that jazz, bla bla bla... Hope you enjoy the read, but be forewarned, it contains a lot of emotional Nikki ramblings! :)**

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><p><em><strong>And I wish I could lay down beside you when the day is done,<br>and wake up to your face against the morning sun...**_

_**But like everything I've ever known, you'll disappear one day,  
>so I'll spend my whole life hiding my heart away...<strong>_

_(Brandi Carlisle/ Adele, Hiding My Heart)_

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><p>For the third night in a row, you'd found it impossible to sleep. The last three weeks had been difficult for all of you, but at last the emotional scars, as well as Harry's physical ones, seemed to be fading.<p>

For the past three weeks, you and Leo had been Harry's lifeline; he'd told you so himself. You knew he was grateful to have you there, and you were equally as grateful to feel needed, but most of all, _wanted_. You had a purpose, something and some_one_ to focus on.

You know now however that your focus is fading, along with Harry's scars.

Your focus had been the one thing keeping you detached from the real heartache of the last month.

Because sure, watching Harry in such an emotionally fragile state, willing him to recover at all costs, had been heartache enough. Believing him to be dead was unbearable almost to the point where you didn't think you had the capacity to breathe any longer. But the worst heartache of all stemmed from the realisation that the past seven years, although filled with happy memories, have simply been the product of an emotional war.

No, worse than war. It had become a stalemate. With neither side willing to make a move.

You had realised, on that day in Hungary, too late you'd thought, that your entire friendship with Harry was based on anticipation. The anticipation that one day, in a perfect world, everything would be different, everything would change, and your life would suddenly feel... right.

"_You always thought we'd be together didn't you? Me and Harry. That's what everyone thought. That one day we'd come to our senses."_

You'd surprised yourself when you'd said it. Said it out loud to Leo for the first time. Although in itself, the moment wasn't entirely surprising, because whilst it _was_ the first time you'd said it _aloud_, it was as if the same had been said on countless previous occasions, through the intimate intricacies of your ongoing relationship with Harry.

Leo already knew how you felt. You were sure of that. You'd admitted that 'everyone' else knew it too. Janet, Zak, anyone who'd spent a considerable amount of time in yours and Harry's presence had unwillingly entered into the war, abiding by, almost instantly, a set of rules governed by your behaviour.

Certain subjects were out of the question, certain topics never discussed. Knowing glances were kept to a minimum, or at least shielded from your view. The pretence of these war 'allies' enabled your friendship to continue on the grounds it had begun.

It was now, among the dreams that kept you awake each night, that you'd realised the terrifying truth. In order for you friendship with Harry to continue, a sense of anticipation must be maintained.

In the wake of all that has happened, you are unsure as to whether you have the strength to keep up a pretence of such magnitude. Your relationship with Harry was, before, one that you'd never questioned, always believing that its foundations ran deep, deep within your hearts.

His 'death' had shocked you right to your very core, but after all that has happened, you can see that the shock was merely because of a possible future that no longer existed. The hope that had sustained your conventional view of the future for the past seven years had been extinguished.

You've been awake for over an hour now and the strain of these thoughts has left you with a dull throbbing sensation in the front of your head, so you head to the kitchen and take a couple of painkillers to try and ease your suffering. On your return to the bedroom, you see that your mobile is flashing. You glance at the clock. 3:21am.

It's Harry. And your head starts to throb just that little bit more.

'_You've not been yourself lately and I'm worried. I miss the old 'us'. Dinner tomorrow? H x'_

You know you're overtired and possibly ever so slightly delusional when you reply. The sane you would have put the phone down on the bedside table and turned off the reading light.

But the Harry-affected you took over.

'_Not sure we can be the old 'us' again. How about a new 'us'? N x'_

You had meant it to suggest that you both put the past behind you and start a fresh. If anticipation of a future with Harry was taken out of the equation, then maybe, just maybe, there'd be a chance of a real friendship based on something more.

You realised sometime later that your message could have inferred exactly that – 'more'. You may have inadvertently suggested the one thing that you've spent seven years trying to deny you wanted. You would worry about this more if it weren't for the soothing effects of the painkillers, and soon you find yourself, head on pillow, drifting into a deep sleep.

You are awoken some time later, only thirty-four minutes later you realise as you look at the clock, by a shrill buzzing sound. A sound that later turns out to be your doorbell. A glimpse at the monitor by your apartment door shows an image of Harry, pacing up and down outside your building, and you find yourself surprisingly _unsurprised_ at his presence.

"What do you want Harry? It's 4 o'clock in the morning!"

"Is it really? Blimey! Well I made it in time for breakfast then. C'mon, let me up, it's bloody freezing out here!"

You buzzed him into the building before taking your door off the latch and retrieving your dressing gown from the end of your bed.

"Seriously Harry, any normal person would wait till an acceptable hour to pop round for a chat."

"Ah, well, normal maybe, but I work in a mortuary don't forget, therefore I think we can establish that I do not fall under the category of 'normal'. Besides, if you _will_ send mysterious text messages at half past three in the morning, what do you expect?"

"You text me first."

"Well, I was awake. Couldn't sleep. And at least my message made sense."

You could feel the awkwardness of the conversation rising, the terror of what was about to unfold bubbling up inside you. Were you about to lose the best friend you'd ever had?

"No mystery Harry. I was just saying I think we need a fresh start, you and me."

"What are you saying? Are you thinking of leaving the Lyell Centre? Don't go Niks, I know I've been a lot to handle recently but I –"

" – I'm not leaving, Harry."

"Oh, well that's good. So fresh start like how?"

"I need some time I think. Time away maybe."

"So you are leaving? Look, whatever it is I've done, I'm sorry."

"It's not what you've done Harry." You almost shout. You can't believe his ignorance, because you simply can't believe that he can't feel _it_ too. Your voice quietens to a near whisper, "It's what you haven't done... What I haven't done."

You know you've spent the last seven years hiding your heart away, because that way you've resisted getting hurt once again. You know that the box, in which your heart has been locked, is now open. You aren't surprised that Harry is the one who seems to have the key.

You can't bear to look him in the face, so instead you stare at the ground, willing this conversation to end. You realise, through the silent tears that are spilling down your cheeks, that he has moved infinitely closer to you, yet still he does not speak.

You don't look up.

"I've failed you Nikki Alexander."

He takes your hand in his and with his other, gently lifts your head until your eyes meet his. He brushes away your tears.

"I have spent the last six or seven years scared, Nikki. Scared because I never knew it was possible to care so much about another person. Scared every time I thought I'd lost you, or you were hurt or in trouble. But mostly, scared because I knew that telling you all this would ruin what we have, forever."

You can barely believe what you're hearing.

"But I'm not scared anymore, Nikki. I'm not scared of not being good enough for you. I'm not even scared of ruining our friendship, because I _know_ that I can make you happy. I never want to make you cry, ever again."

As he brushes the last remaining tears from your cheeks, his lips meet yours in a kiss that sets your whole body on fire, his hands dancing along the contours of your hips, your hands in his hair. Suddenly everything makes sense.

Moments later, foreheads leaning on one another, he scoops you up in his arms and carries you through to your bedroom. You're finding it harder and harder to believe in the events that are unfolding.

Laying you down on the bed, and without saying a word, he kicks off his shoes and climbs in beside you, turning you away from him so that the curve of your bodies fit perfectly with one another, as he breathes in the scent of your hair.

You realise in that moment that you've had it completely wrong. Your friendship was never based solely on anticipation. You've reached the place you never truly thought possible, and you couldn't feel closer to your best friend. No, this is a relationship, a friendship, based on _love_.

"I want to make you happy, Nikki. If you'll let me. And I can't believe it's taken this long, but I don't want to wait any longer to tell you... that I love you."

For a second you don't react, then instinctively, you wrap your hands round his on your stomach and pull him close, "I love you too Harry Cunningham."

As you drift off into a peaceful sleep, comforted by the man you know will keep you safe, you think back once again to that conversation with Leo in Hungary, and his words echo in your mind...

"It's always later than you think."

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><p><strong>Would love to hear reviews from anyone that has the time! :) xxx<strong>


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